I first noticed a slight facial tic. And then beads of sweat began popping up on my forehead as my breaths quickened. It was happening again. Christmas. And once more using the same feeble brain given to all males who don’t have a clue when it comes to the opposite sex, I began a futile and, yes, pathetic attempt at figuring out what Christmas gifts to purchase for my wife. I have no doubt this sorry spectacle regularly occurs anywhere there is a husband and a wife who celebrate Christmas.
This year she told me, “There is nothing that neither of us need. Let’s just concentrate on our children and grandchildren.”
Yeah, right! She threw that dastardly ploy at me last year. Believing her satanic lie, I bought her a Chia Pet and an Ove-Glove, while for the next half hour I unwrapped gift after gift she purchased for me, my embarrassment growing with every rip of paper. And she smugly took such pride in knowing exactly what I didn’t even know I needed. She thought she was such a smarty pants! She still does. Well, there was one gift I didn’t need she tried to slip by me. And I caught it! She bought underwear which I clearly didn’t need. I mean I still have no problem whatsoever deciphering which holes in my shorts are for legs. Ha! Now it was her turn to open up my gifts.
“I love this, dear,” she says with a repulsive blink. “And the thought is what really matters most.” Move over slug, I am now one step lower than your slime trail.
But this year I am determined to foil her demonic plan! My brain begins to short-circuit as I mull over the possibilities.
A new fishing pole and reel? No that didn’t work, which she has been more than happy to bring to my attention when this loving gift became a regular part of my fishing arsenal.
Flowers? Dear Lord, no! That’s the only ploy I have for our anniversary. It’s hard enough just remembering my anniversary without screwing up the only gift that still works.
Diamonds and sapphires? No, I attempted jewelry. But I soon learned that department stores never make a habit of stacking their precious gems out in their isles at the unbelievably low price of $19.99. And who would know that a person’s skin can turn green wearing jewelry?
My next thought is clothes. But that plan is immediately foiled when I learn that women’s wear doesn’t come in small, medium, large, and X-large. I mean it’s not bad enough us guys know nothing about styles. Now we have to decipher women’s clothing sizes. I am defeated before I begin. I am now totally lost. I know she is not petite, but, because of past history, I am paranoid to buy anything larger. Does she wear queen? I don’t dare buy that size, unless I am satisfied with justifiable homicide being my the cause of death written into my eulogy. Now I am getting desperate! I run helter skelter through the store. And then it was like a Heavenly light shined down in all its majestic glory as angelic harps began playing through the store’s PA system. There before me stacked in all their splendor were my answers…Gift Cards! Suddenly the pressure of an unseen weight was lifted from my shoulders! I mean, now she can buy whatever her heart desires without disappointment!
On Christmas morning I display a broad and proud smile as she opens her envelope. She glances at it and responds, “I gave you several hints what I wanted. But that’s okay. I can buy it with this gift card.”
What hints? When in the hell did she give me a hint? I don’t have a clue, and I also don’t ask.
My shoulders slump as she pats my cheek. “I love you, dear, and it’s the thought that counts.”
Once again she successfully shows her prowess. But good or bad, another Christmas has passed. Of course there is still next Christmas, but that gives me another year to ponder gift ideas. And, of course, I still won’t have a clue….Sigh!